


Injustice

by ClockworksApprentice



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, F/M, Vigilante AU, human!plagg, human!tikki, no superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5974273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworksApprentice/pseuds/ClockworksApprentice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mysterious Red-Black Vigilante Roaming The Streets of Paris- Friend or Foe? Marinette blinked at the headline in the morning paper that her father read before a faint flush dusted over her cheeks as a strange sense of pride built up in her chest. She liked to think that with no powers to speak off, that she was doing a pretty good job at cleaning up the slums in the crime-ridding depths of Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ya know you're in deep when you write a fanfiction for it. By God, this show is taking over my life.

Paris. City of Love. City of beauty. City of a lot of other things that ranked in tourists like flies to pea soup. But it was all for show. The beauty of Paris was a faint smoke screen for its darker depths. For the druggies that hid in the allies. For the human-traffickers hiding in the vans, waiting for an easy target. For the prostitutes that made their intentions pretty clear to every man and woman that walked by. For the people that drove by and shot out of their windows at anyone and everyone. For the people with bombs strapped to their chests under their jackets. For the schools with too many guards to count, a metal detector system, and steel-barred gates. For the muggers and thieves waiting on the corners. For the corrupted politicians that took money from the people. For the cops and judges that choose bribes over justice. For the ever-growing power of the criminal gang Akuma. For the mysterious man- the media deemed him Hawk Moth- who controlled all the crime in Paris. For the fear that gripped each and every citizen in Paris as they wondered if when they went out if they were even going to make it home.

Marinette was _sixteen_. She should be worrying about cute boys, best friends, prom, and homework. If that top really matched her shorts. If she should wear her hair down or up today. If she and Alya could really make that late-night movie showing and still have enough time to sleep for tomorrow's chemistry test. Well. One of those things she did worry about anyway- or rather, she worried about _someone_ aka Adrien, the boy in her class she's had a crush on for a while now. But that wasn't the point. 

The point was that instead of focusing her worry and concerns on being a teenage girl and growing up, she was worrying more about every shadow that passed through the corner of her eyes. Every footstep behind her. Every sudden noise in the night. Every jiggle of her balcony doors. If she went out tonight, would she be home in the morning- _alive_ _and safe._ Because she knew all too well that being alive was a vague term since there were worse things than dying.

And she was sick of it. She was sick of it _all._ She was tired of having an _eight o'clock_ curfew (and that was if and only _if_ she had friends with her when she was out). She was tired of seeing classmates slowly disappear from her classroom, having never returned from walks home. She was tired of seeing their faces on the news the next morning, labeled as _missing_ or worse, _dead._ She was tired of the way her parents' eyes were constantly glued to either the news or the metal box that was built into the wall with too many safety locks to count behind the painting in their living room as they worried about when (there was no _if_ ) someone wa s go i ng to burst through the door and demand all of their money or bust in to trash the bakery . S he was sick and tired of the anger, fear, sa dness, and sympathy that bubbled in her chest. She was tired of the fearful looks on everyone's faces. The smugness of the rich. The injustice of the poor. _The injustice of_ _the people of Paris._

_And damn it if the cops aren't going to do anything_ _to protect people_ _then I will._

A fire blazed in the depths of her blue irises. She had aikido training growing up- training that never stopped (like _hell_ her mom was going to stop her from getting some sort of training to protect herself in these times) and she could confidently say that she could defend off most attackers. She could do this. Yeah, she could do it. She took a deep breath, almost reassuring herself that she was making the right decision, and got right to work.

With a determined expression on her face, she furiously began drawing design after design in her sketchbook as she nestled in the chair on her balcony- the sun was just appearing over the horizon on that Saturday morning so she had all day to get this done. Papers were crumbled and tossed to the ground beside her. Her once-warm cup of hot chocolate turned colder and colder with each hour she spent outside- though her mother did drop in shortly to replace it with another fresh cup. As the morning turned into the afternoon, she changed her position in her chair, opting for laying upside down with her head over the edge as she let out a small frustrated groan.

Just how hard was it to design a costume? _No,_ Marinette chided herself, _not a costume._ _This isn't playing or dress-up. This is serious business. Really serious business. I need an outfit that will_ _be known. Something that's legendary. Something that's a_ _symbol_ _to Paris. A symbol of justice._ She absently chewed on her pencil in thought- not an easy thing to do from her current position- when she felt something brush against her nose. Going cross-eyed, she could see the familiar shape of a ladybug making its place on the tip of her nose. _Heh,_ Marinette giggled, _ladybugs are supposed to be good luck, maybe it will help me…._ The light-bulb went off in her mind, causing her eyes to light up just as the ladybug flew off peacefully.

Marinette scrambled out of her chair and watched it until it disappeared into the horizon. Her heart pounded in her chest as a large grin stretched across her face. She let out an excited squeal, dashing back to her chair. _Ladybugs,_ Marinette thought excitedly, _that's exactly it. I don't need a symbol for justice. I need a symbol of good fortune. A symbol of good luck. A symbol that says things will get better and even when everything is going wrong, to still look for the good._

Her pencil dashed across her page- this time filling up pages with alternative design ideas rather than crumbling them up and tossing them. By the time the afternoon descended into the evening, she had a design she was happy with. A design that was bound to help her hide her identity, something that will not leave fingerprints, not expose any skin, and help her blend into the shadows.

It started with a red sleeveless hoodie that cut just a bit before naval, covered with black polka-dot- the hood would hide her face as well as hide her hair. A matching scarf, which would have black on the other side to serve to be inverted, would tuck into the inside of the hood would cover the lower section of her face while a black domino mask would help hide her upper face. Red shorts with a black belt that a small red, black-polka dotted bag attached to. Red gloves cut just after wrist with red boots cut mid-calf designed with a black zipper (she had the very pair of boots stashed into the depths of her closet which saved her time). To complete the look, a black catsuit went under it all, covering any and all skin that clothes revealed and would help her blend into the shadows a bit more- if all else failed, she could ditch the outer clothes, leaving her in just the catsuit and turn the scarf inside out to become one with the shadows all together.

She looked briefly toward the fading sun and sighed deeply, knowing that with this big of a project, she won't be getting to work on the streets of Paris any time soon…. _Not to mention a weapon,_ Marinette thought idly, _maybe._ She shook her head and looked back toward the design with a faint grin. With a get-up like that, she wondered what the media would call her.

“Marinette,” Sabine, her mother, called as she opened the doors of the balcony and looked toward her daughter with a worried expression, “It's getting late, why don't you come inside?”

Marinette grinned at her mother, hugging her sketchbook close to her chest as she practically skipped inside, stopping briefly to plant a small kiss on her mother's cheek. As she plopped down on her bed, her mother stared, gaping slightly, with a faint, loving smile on her face.

Sabine wasn't entirely sure what got into her daughter- she was rarely in this good of a mood unless Alya was involved- but she wasn't going to complain. Though there was something about Marinette's smile that made her briefly think her daughter may be up to something...

 


	2. The Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette finally receives the missing part of her new 'project'- the much needed weapon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments!

The teacher droned on, as per usual. The security guard that passed by the door ever so often as they patrolled the school went relatively unnoticed- when it happened every day, one got used to it. The outside of the school campus was guarded as well- a few even went as far as messing around with the metal detector by the door to check if it really worked, and a more disciplined pair of guards stood at the gate of the fence that surrounded the school, waiting for danger.

Nearly everyone in class was used to it by now. Even Adrien. Though that didn't mean that he, or anyone really, had to like it. If he was honest with himself, he _hated_ it. The sense of danger and death that drenched the school with negativity. There were times that the school and the city felt more confining and suffocating than his own house for that reason… But he wasn't sure what he hated more, the emptiness of _his_ house or knowing that a lot of other houses were slowly becoming more and more vacant as occupants of Paris went missing or dead. 

His fists clenched underneath his desk as he sucked in a sharp breath. He chided himself to relax- he was Adrien A gre ste. He couldn't get mad like this in public.  His father was an important figure of Paris, it wouldn't do well for the ever-important 'family image'- business aside, Gabriel constantly made public appearances and donated money to charities. Even Adrien himself visited charities, animal shelters, and the like. Though Adrien knew in his heart that they both went for different reasons and to be honest, he wasn't sure what his father's reasons were. He  knew his father-  he saw the true side to his father that the media didn't. The cold man locked into his office with a dead look  in his eyes. The man with the unforgiving expression on his face with a temper to boot. He was  _not_ the kind-hearted, warm man everyone saw. Though that was a secret Adrien kept close to his heart, knowing better than to upset his father. So he couldn't help but wonder why his father would put up such a warm front. It was one thing to act friendly and polite during parties and fashion shows. Another thing entirely to fake the kind smile for a camera and donate thousands to charities across the country. 

"- In more recent times,” the teacher droned on, a hooded expression in her eyes, “- The crime in Paris has since sky-rocketed.”

His eyes gleamed over as the teacher spoke of some more recent crimes. The rise of Akuma and the mysterious Hawk Moth- known only for leaving a stylized, sharp-edged moth symbol in his wake (all Akuma members had the symbol as a tattoo, usually on their wrist)-  and he began to wonder, why didn't someone- anyone- do something about it?

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette couldn't keep her eyes open. They kept flickering open and close as the weight of sleep pulled her down. Her head kept dropping to the side before she'd snap awake with a jolt only to doze off seconds later. Maybe she would have been able to stay awake if she wasn't up all night working on her design. It was completed at least, which had to count for something, but without a weapon to go along with it, what good was it? She needed something to help protect herself. Something she could use well. Something that could so some serious damage if used right. _Something…._ she thought in daze as her eyes drooped down, her lips parting with a small snore.

A sharp jab to her ribs woke her up with a jolt, her eyes wide as she sat straight with her shoulders back, but relaxed with a sheepish smile when she saw that it was only Alya. Her best friend eyed her with a bit of caution, a sly smirk on her lips as she leaned toward Marinette to whisper,

“So you wanna tell me why you were up all night? You're so tired that I haven't seen you even glance toward Adrien _once_ today.”

Marinette flushed deeply, a shy smile on her face as she couldn't help but glance briefly through the corner of her eyes toward the boy in question. Unluckily for her, at the mention of his name, Adrien perked up and peered over his shoulder at them with an amused, though bit confused, smile on his face. Marinette bit back a squeal as she shyly ducked her head. Alya had no shame as she waved at Adrien, grabbing Marinette's hand and forcing her to wave as well. Adrien slowly returned the wave before his attention snapped back to the teacher before they got caught.

Marinette could feel her heart pounding wildly within her chest as a goofy, love-sick grin stretched across her face. Alya watched her in amusement, playfully rolling her eyes at how easy her best friend was flustered over her crush. It took a full minute before Marinette's face regained its normal skin tone as she turned toward Alya discretely, lowering her head as she whispered,

"I've just been busy with a new project,” her words came out a bit slowly as she choose them carefully.

Alya's eyes lit up at the mention of a new project- she always enjoyed seeing Marinette's designs and finished projects. Trying them on was a plus.  Yet she couldn't help but notice that Marinette seemed more distracted than usual, not  devolving in any more information about the project. Normally she wouldn't shut up about whatever it was she was working on. She didn't push the subject, especially since Marinette didn't seem to want to even talk anymore about it as she refused to meet Alya's eyes and nervously bit at her bottom lip.  _Sometimes I don't know what gets into her,_ Alya thought briefly, but she knew that she'd find out what was making Marinette so weird about this new project eventually. So after one last, sympathetic glance toward Marinette, Alya turned her attention to someone else _. Nino._

Nino noticed Alya was glancing in his direction  and turned his head briefly toward her \- maybe it came with dating her, but he seemed to have a sixth sense whenever her attention was on him. Not that he was going to complain- he still thought it was a miracle he had a girlfriend in the first place, nevertheless for it to be the ever-stunning-in-his-eyes Alya.  He quirked an eyebrow as she began scribbling something down on a stray piece of paper before handing it to him quickly. He flushed slightly at the note's words and even more so when he glanced up to see her wink at him. It was times like this that he cursed that it was the ever- _vulgar_ Alya that was his girlfriend.

Marinette barely even noticed that Alya and Nino were passing notes- she didn't even  _want_ to know what the notes said to get Nino so flustered about them. Her mind just kept drifting back to her project and more importantly, the last  _important_ piece of said project.  _The weapon._ But could she possibly use?  She wanted to reprehend the culprits, capture evidence to incriminate them,  _not_ kill them.  She wasn't a killer and even the thought of it made her stomach turn in distaste.  A sword would be too heavy and not to mention way to dangerous.  Nun-chucks maybe? Stun guns? Pepper spray? Well, she would want to put a stun gun, pepper spray, and various other things that may come in handy in her bag, but she wouldn't want those as her primary weapon. 

She glanced out the window and smiled softly at the ladybug that crawled across the glass. She liked to think that it was a good luck sign that what she was planning was going to go well and that she'd find the answers she was looking for soon. She could feel it in her gut and a fierce determination briefly flashed across her eyes. A jolt of adrenaline caused a sudden restlessness to surge through her and her fingers tapped across the table counter as her leg bounced beneath it. Multiple types of ideas swarmed through her mind- maces, batons, swords, daggers, staffs, but nothing seemed to spark the _ah-hah_ moment that she wanted. 

What she needed was something  different. Unique. Something that suited her. Something light. Easy to move around.  Something that can help her catch the baddies (that briefly caused her to make a note to carry rope in her bag for tying them up).  Bolas maybe? A Flying Claw?  _No,_ she frowned. Neither of those were  weapons she felt confident using. In fact, the only physical weapon (training aside) was a yo-yo that she 'wielded' when she was five. She could still remember her father cheering her on when she did all those yo-yo tricks… All the way until she had swung it out and hit a vase off the table. Her dad thought it was cool. Her mother, not so much.

She chuckled slightly at the memory. But it wasn't as if she could use a yo-yo as a weapon, could she? The light bulb went off in her head as a giddy grin spread across her face, her eyes lighting up. 

 

* * *

 

Marinette walked through the streets of Paris with a nervous, paranoid gleam in her eyes. Normally, she'd be much more confident walking the streets- she found that looking nervous was bound to draw muggers toward her. But she just couldn't help it. She couldn't help the frantic pounding in her chest and the adrenaline that pumped through her veins. She was just too excited for this, but excitement didn't drown out the small hint of fear of what could happen if someone found out what she was planning. Or found out who she was after she begins this.

_Tikki's Mechanical Defense_

The sign looked rather frilly with bright colors and loopy letters, contradicting with the fact that there were swords, daggers, and knives lining the shop window. Marinette knew from experience that the inside of the shop held even more weapons- everything from simple self defense weapons that anyone could use to help protect themselves. A self defense class was taught every Wednesday. A state of the art security system was pretty clearly seen- all the way to the bars that poked out from just above the door and window, ready to lock down at closing. Thankfully, there were never any robbers. Not yet anyway. The weapons sold in the shop were a bit more unconventional and hard compared to a gun- Marinette knew for a fact that Tikki never sold any guns. Something told Marinette that it was a personal thing.

She took a deep breath, swallowing the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach, and balanced the box containing multiple goodies from her parents' shop (mostly cookies and chocolate) in one hand as she used the other to swing open the shop door. She never knew how Tikki managed to make her shop _always_ smell sweet- she couldn't quite place what the smell was exactly- when most weapons and mechanics shops smelled like oil, metal, and sweat. Though she wasn't going to question it. She didn't have the time to as she spotted a familiar face behind the counter.

Tikki Bonnet was a plump young woman, being a few years older than Marinette and in the midst of college. Her black hair grazed across her shoulders in perfect curls that were tinted red. Like Marinette, Tikki had a love for polka dots and pretty colors, sporting a white top that was covered in red polka-dots, blue shorts, and polka-dotted heels that seemed almost unsafe to work in at a weapons shop. As always, Tikki had a large, friendly grin on her rounded face that made her look younger and more innocent than even Marinette.

“Hiya, Marinette~” Tikki's voice was higher pitched, but in a smooth, mature way that made it appealing to the ears, “I don't see you here that often,” she frowned, “Don't tell me you got into trouble and decided you finally need a weapon.”

_It's uncanny,_ Marinette flushed, Tikki's chiding, motherly expression matched Sabine's own motherly expression whenever Marinette got into trouble. It made Marinette feel as if she was a small child that got caught stealing cookies out of a cookie jar. She recovered quick enough, a nervous grin on her face as she tried to walk to Tikki with the most confidence she could muster. She plopped the box of goodies onto the counter- her action didn't need any explaining as Tikki's eyes lit up with joy. Marinette could  _almost see_ the stars in Tikki's eyes as she practically tore open the box to get straight to the good stuff. 

Tikki didn't even hide her excited little  squeal when she saw all the goodies.  She didn't hesitate to look through the goodies, each one igniting another squeal. Her heart pounded in her chest with happiness and she licked her lips just thinking about eating all of them. But half way through the box, she paused, as if she realized something, and looked toward Marinette with a cautious expression. Her thick eyebrows were furrowed as her eyes narrowed slightly.

“What's the occasion?”

Marinette flushed, scratching the back of her neck as she gave Tikki a sheepish grin.

“I was hoping to take some stuff off your hands- pepper spray, a taser, stun gun,” she listed each item on her fingers, “and maybe something like a chakram?”

She said _chakram_ a bit pleadingly with big wide eyes that Tikki just couldn't refuse. She relaxed with an easy grin as she nodded at Marinette, who let out a happy yip before searching through the store. To Tikki, it seemed as if she had just blinked before Marinette was back with many, varying things in her arms and a big, hopeful grin on her face. The grin faltered a bit as she set the items on the counter,

“I couldn't find a chakram,” she muttered a bit disappointed, “Do you think you have anything similar to it?”

Tikki hummed a bit thoughtfully, a perfectly manicured pink nail tapping lightly against her top lip before it dawned on her. Her eyes lit up as she snapped her fingers, disappearing through a door behind the counter. Marinette furrowed her brows in confusion, but it wasn't long before Tikki reappeared with a large excited grin and a large box. She set the box on the counter, balancing the box with one hand while using the other to lightly push all of Marinette's items to the side to make room.

“Ta-da~,” Tikki's sing-song voice announced proudly, “A modified chakram~ I've been experimenting combining different weapons and made this little beauty _ages_ ago, but apparently no one was fond of the whole polka-dot pattern on it.”

She admitted the last part a bit sheepishly, but the pride at the creation still shined in her eyes as Marinette peered down into the box.  Her eyebrows furrowed at the relatively good-sized metallic disk in the box, unsure of what it was supposed to be or do. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it was an overgrown, metal red yo-yo with black polka-dots, resembling a ladybug's spots, complete with a long, thin rope/thread that seemed to be reinforced with steel if its metallic glint was anything to go by.

“It's...uh...great, Tikki,” she was at a loss for words, but didn't want to discourage Tikki.

Tikki rolled her eyes and pressed a small button on the top of the strange weapon and with a small _shlt_ , the top layer swung forward as two chakram-like blades swung apart, previously concealed by the top layer. The reinforced steel thread was barely visible, tucked into a gear between the blades and the bottom layer. Tikki couldn't help but grin at Marinette's obvious awe. Marinette's jaw had gone slack in a small gap as her eyes went wide. _Perfect._ It was the _ah-ah_ moment she was looking for.  It was so _perfect_ as if it was _fate_ or destiny for her to have the weapon. 

“ I based it off a yo-yo,” Tikki explained, a thoughtful expression on her face, “So in theory, it would exactly like a  _painful_ metal yo-yo. With the blades out, however, it could do some serious damage if you're not careful.”

Marinette was barely able to even hear Tikki's voice, too absorbed into the weapon,

“How much,” she whispered breathlessly.

Tikki let out a bellowing laugh, the corners of her eyes wrinkling as her dimples became a bit more apparent. 

“Just bring me some freshly made cookies on a regular basis, and you can have it.”

She winked playfully as  she packed up the specially made weapon and other tools.  Marinette let out an excited, thrilled barely-contained scream. Her toes bounced on the ground as her legs jiggled in excitement, wanting nothing more than to jump up and down.  Her  twinkling  eyes kept dancing between the bag of weapons and Tikki and practically snatched the bags out of Tikki's hands and bouncing out of the shop.

_This is it,_ Marinette thought,  _I'm ready to do this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to post a picture of both human!Tikki and Marinette's Vigilante Design on Deviant Art.  
> http://clockworksapprentice.deviantart.com/art/Ladybug-Vigilante-AU-591089025  
> http://clockworksapprentice.deviantart.com/art/Human-Tikki-591090947


	3. First Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette takes to the streets of Paris in her first time out as a vigilante.   
> Every hero has to start somewhere.

Her heart pounded so quickly in her chest she feared it would burst forth. The adrenaline in her veins almost out numbered the amount of blood in her body. Her fingers twitched at her sides where the specialized chakram hung by the bag around her waist. It took everything she had to keep her breathing under control, remembering that it was best to keep as silent as she could as she moved through the city of Paris by rooftop. Every once in a while, she noticed a few people in windows looked startled at a light clunking from their roof before they dismissed it as nothing. Once upon a time, she cursed the architects who built the city for building things so close together and now it was working to her advantage.

A part of her couldn't believe that she was actually doing this. It barely even felt real to her. But it was that good sense of reality questioning. The happy type. Like when you get an extra serving of something for free. Or when you find out what you want to do with your life and wonder why you didn't think of it sooner. When you wake up in the morning and your bed is perfectly warmed to your body and it feels so comfy that all you want to do is sleep in bed all day like a lazy cat. When you get an unexpected day off from school. Finding spare money in your jeans pocket that you forgot about. It was like all of that and more as she leaped from roof to roof with a big grin on her face.

The grin didn't stop her eyes from scanning the streets below in a critical manner, knowing that as good as it felt to be out (and the slight nerves she felt from it), she had a mission to get to. A very important mission, if she said so herself. It was only a matter of minutes before she heard sounds of a scuffle in a nearby alley. She scaled down the building, using a pipe that ran the length of it to help, and landed on an emergency fire exit that faced the alley. Low enough she could see, but high enough she doubted anyone would see her. Her eyes narrowed when she saw a gang member- an Akuma if the glimpse of that familiar tattoo on his wrist was anything to go by- grabbing a woman by her collar, his lips turned into a sneer.

“Just give me your purse and I'll leave you alone,” his voice was grating and deep, causing Marinette to suck in a sharp breath.

Her fingers twitched at her sides and slowly, carefully, and _quietly_ she got out the chakram, but focused her eyes on the culprit, not noticing her thumb was on top of the release button the chakram. _Slsh._ The blades swung out, cutting her deeply in her palm. She let out a hiss and a breathy curse at the sudden pain in her palm, quickly sheathing the blades back, but it was too late. The Akuma member heard her and his eyes snapped up, locking gazes with her.

He acted quicker than Marinette could have predicted, grabbing the victim and holding her close to him as if she were a human shield. One of his arms wrapped closely across her chest, pinning her to him with no chance of escape, while the other held a knife to the woman's throat.

Marinette's heart beat wildly in her chest as her eyes stayed focused on him to the best of her ability as she sheathed the chakram back into her bag in favor of ripping off a piece of her hoodie- as much as it pained her to do so, she didn't have the time to search through the first aid kit. She began wrapping the wound as tight as she could, no matter how much it stung.

 “Come on out, girly, and maybe I'll let her live,” he cooed, causing Marinette's breath to catch in her throat.

Marinette released a defeated sigh and swung herself off the fire exit, her wounded hand stayed close to her chest and the move wasn't easy to accomplish with just one hand. Her landing was a bit shaky, but well enough, before she stood tall with her head held high, refusing to back down. She could feel the blood of her hand wound seep through the fabric and she could barely even twitch her fingers. She didn't care. Not right now.

“Look what we have here,” the criminal sneered, “Some kid playing dress up. Typical. And here I thought you may have been a threat or somethin.'”

Marinette's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching as her unwounded hand formed into a tight fist.  She just needed an opening. Something she could work with. Anything. The criminal didn't seem to realize her demeanor, or maybe he did and simply didn't care, as he carelessly tossed the woman to the ground. She scrambled to get away, forgetting her purse which laid on the alley ground a few feet away.

He lunched for Marinette, his knife raised high, ready to slash into her. She side-stepped easily enough and grabbed his wrist with her hand. Using his momentum and weight against him, she pulled him forward and to the ground. Never releasing his wrist, he laid on the ground with a likely pained jaw from where it hit the concrete, as she swung his arm behind his back, twisting his wrist until he finally let go of the knife with a pained grunt.

Her knee  went into his back, right between his shoulder blades, pinning him to the ground. Her wounded hand trembled and shook, but she wrapped her free arm around the criminal's neck, he writhed in a vain effort to get free, but thankfully, he wasn't that big of a criminal nor was he too heavy or strong. A low-ranked criminal, if she had to guess, nothing more than a lackey or errand boy. It took a few moments, but his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he collapsed, knocked out from the lack of oxygen. Then, she released her grip on him entirely and stood up, a small content grin on her face as her chest swelled with pride.

_I did it. I actually did it. I took down my first criminal._ Her legs danced a bit in victory before she pulled herself together, reminding herself there was still work to do. It pained her hand, but she was able to drag the criminal to a nearby telephone poll and tie him up with some rope, tightly and effectively in a way he wouldn't be able to get undone. A quick trip to the public telephone box on the street was all it took before a few cop cars and an ambulance rolled into the street and alley as she watched from her perch on the roof.

She doubted that a high-rank criminal, the leader of the Akuma himself or whoever else was in charge of this idiot, would bribe judges and pay for the bail of a low-life so she was confident that he'd be behind jail bars. For now, that was good enough for her. Though a part of her admitted that eventually, she was going to have to go big. But she would face that day when it got there.

* * *

She patrolled for the rest of the night, all the way until around three in the morning. She snuck onto the balcony of her home and back into her room, slipping in unnoticed with sweat dripping down her brow and her muscles aching. Her chest was still heaving with uneven breaths and it vaguely hurt with each rise and fall. Her legs felt like jelly and by some miracle, she at least managed to sit down on her chair by her computer without falling sleeping first thing. If she wanted to keep doing this, she would need a lot more training- not just with the self defense, but weight lifting to get her muscles used to this constant workout.

She leaned her head back with a sigh as she weakly and tiredly, pulled down the hood and removed the scarf and the mask. The mask was damp from sweat and heavy in her hands and there were a few small tears in the scarf that would need fixing before she could go back out. _I can out tomorrow,_ Marinette thought, her eyes drooping, _find some… better fabric for this. This is just… really hot and heavy…._

Carefully and slowly, she  stood from the seat. She stumbled as she tried to regain her balance, her muscles protesting each and every movement. It took a miracle, but she removed the sweat stained, slightly bloody and torn clothes, catsuit and all and hid them under her bed before she showered and changed into pajamas.  The hot water helped each her muscles and body.  Her skin glistened with water and she had to admit she felt  _clean_ now. Which was a major improvement as she gently took a seat on the edge of her bed.

She glanced to her hand. It had turned numb by now, but it was obviously swollen and pink. It looked deep and when she gently pressed an area near the cut, she hissed with pain before she swallowed it down. Grabbing the first aid kit, she pulled out the needed supplies- all the way from the  dis infectant to the cotton- and her phone. A quick  _Google_ search was all it took to at least get an idea of what she needed to do. The cut was obviously deep enough it needed stitches. If she had to guess, it barely touched the muscles of her palm. But she couldn't exactly go to the E.R., the time aside, how was she going to explain how she suddenly got such a deep cut over night?

Hissing and cursing through it all,  she examined the wound first. Deep. But it wasn't bleeding excessively. Didn't tear up too much tissue. She could do this. Taking a deep breath, she sterilized the tools in a cup that originally had her water from earlier in it before she got down to business. Tears bristled at her eyes when she soaked the palm with disinfectant, the stinging growing by the second, before she dried it with a hand towel from the bathroom, wincing at the small amount of blood that was surely going to stain the towel later and made a mental note to hide that towel with her outfit so her mom didn't question why there was a bloody towel in the wash. 

I t took a while as she did each movement of stitching carefully and slowly, taking shallow quick breaths.  _It's just like sewing fabric, Mari,_ she repeated to herself. Her breathing pattern resembled someone in labor rather than just a small girl trying to stitch herself up. But finally, it was done, carefully wrapped up with cotton. 

_Done,_ Marinette thought in relief, _finally down._ She plopped down on the bed and in an instant, she was out like a light for a much-needed rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review and I'm welcome to constructive criticism as this is my first Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction (though it is an AU this time, future ones won't be). To be posted on Fanfiction.net soon. Updates will be irregular.


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